


I Am Not A Poet But When I Saw You...

by the_archivist_is_a_problem_child



Series: What If Jon and Martin are reincarnations of Robert Caldwell and Simon Feximal? [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse is outside but Jon and Martin are inside so it's okay, Between S5 Trailer and 161, Canon Asexual Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy banter, Grief/Mourning, Idiots in Love, Jon is South Asian because I am South Asian and I said so, Jon is an abashed romantic and it comes out in his native language, M/M, Martin cuddles Jon like the itty bitty boy he is, Martin is Filipino and Afghani because sod off and I can do what I want, My vehicle for that simon feximal and tma crossover, Screenplay/Script Format, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a sofa, Slight Canon Divergence, Spoilers ep 161 and 160, Tenderness, The I love you is as casual as Jonny Sims intended it to be in 161, There will be a second one!!, that I was going to write for helen and jordan and then I forgot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_archivist_is_a_problem_child/pseuds/the_archivist_is_a_problem_child
Summary: I am not a poet but when I saw you...I knew how to rhyme...I knew of love but I didn't know what it meant...until I saw youI was not a believer...but when I saw you, I started to pray.Based between Season 5 trailer and MAG 161. Jon sings to Martin a song from his childhood and tells him what it and he means to him.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: What If Jon and Martin are reincarnations of Robert Caldwell and Simon Feximal? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690024
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	I Am Not A Poet But When I Saw You...

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo. This was inspired after an old Bollywood song because when you're doing the sweet sweet self-isolation and Yearning for Human Affection, you wanna remember old favourites to get through it and my personal mission to have as many fics that depict Jon and Martin as POC because I want to and I can. 
> 
> Here's the link for that song- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jmeMg-gm1Us
> 
> The title and summary have the English translation of the main themes of the three verses and chorus of the song. The song is from a movie called Bobby and is titled Main Shayar Toh Nahin (I am not a poet). 
> 
> Not joking, I kind of hurt myself writing this because this is a lull between the Greek tragedy that is their romance and I am using this vehicle as a crossover for another sublime romantic tragedy I love with horror themes because my subconscious and creativity is cackling at the thought of more sadness and angst for two characters I project heavily onto. 
> 
> The Remnant and Simon Feximal and Robert Caldwell are locations and characters from the book The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal by KJ Charles which is a romantic tragedy book-ended by British horror folklore.

[CLICK]

[ INT: DAISY’S CABIN]

[THE SOUNDS OF TAP WATER RUNNING]

**MARTIN:**

What was that song you were singing?

**JON:**

( _stuttering_ ) Uh- what? When? I mean…

**MARTIN:**

When you were making dinner last night. You were humming to something and then you started singing out loud. It was nice.

**JON:**

It was - It was nothing. Just- just something I remember.

[SOUNDS OF THE TAP SWITCHING OFF] 

[SHUFFLING OF FOOTSTEPS TO THE SOFA]

**MARTIN:**

( _gentle but inquisitive tone_ ) Was it in Hindi? I remember you saying your great-grandparents came from-

**JON:**

Yeah. They uh- sort of fled the country during the Partition to settle in England. My great-grandmother was Muslim and there was a lot of intercommunal violence across the country, especially in like states that were going to be split between India and Pakistan.

**MARTIN:**

Oh. That’s horrible.

[AWKWARD BUT COMFORTABLE SILENCE] 

[SOUNDS OF PEOPLE RUSTLING AND ADJUSTING ON THE SOFA]

**JON:**

My grandmother- she wasn’t- She was- busy most of the time. She let me do my own thing a lot. But she liked to watch old Bollywood movies a lot and made me watch some with her as well. She never said why, but it probably was her way of- sharing the legacy along I think.

**MARTIN:**

So the song is-

**JON:**

Not from her parents’ era, more from hers, I believe? I think it was from the 80’s or 70’s, I don’t remember exactly. I didn’t understand all of Hindi when I was a kid, but I understood this song.

**MARTIN:**

( _sad smile in his tone_ ) That’s actually kind of nice. My dad- he uh. He used to bring home a lot of stuff when he visited his parents in Afghanistan, like blankets and hand-stitched things from my grandmother. My mom- it disappeared when he left, but I think I still had a record player of his favourite Farsi songs on it that we used to dance too- mom, dad and me. Wish I’d brought it actually. It might have helped-

**JON:**

Keep the sounds away.

[MARTIN LAUGHS. IT’S A TIRED LAUGH OF BONE DEEP WEARINESS.]

**MARTIN:**

Yeah. Might have.

[SILENCE EXCEPT THE SOUNDS OF THE ROARING WINDS...OR SOMETHING ELSE OUTSIDE]

**JON:**

Martin, do you still- remember any of those songs?

**MARTIN:**

Uh- no. After uh dad left, mom- didn’t like hearing any of the songs anymore. We mostly just stuck to Tagalog songs and of course English when I wanted to fit in at school.

**JON:**

Oh. I’m sorry Martin. 

[MARTIN DOESN’T SAY ANYTHING BUT MAKES AN ASSENTING NOISE]

**MARTIN:**

What does the song mean? The one you were singing? I mean I know it won’t mean the same in English probably, translation and all, but like could you tell me?

**JON:**

Uh- It’s uh. It’s nothing, it’s just a standard uh love song. Very 70’s-

[MARTIN KNOWS WHEN JON IS EVADING BY NOW]

**MARTIN:**

( _a soft tone of reproach_ ) Jon.

[JON SIGHS. A SHORT SIGH OF SOME DEGREE OF EMBARRASSMENT AND INSECURITY] 

[SOUNDS OF PACING FOOTSTEPS]

**JON:**

( _properly embarrassed now and stuttering more than usual_ ) : Ah- it uh- I don’t know if the translation will have the correct uh spirit or theme of the song so I don’t know-

**MARTIN:**

_(gentle)_ Jon. It’s fine. I don’t know the language, remember? How would I know what the theme is?

[JON HEH’S]

**JON:**

True. You’re right of course. It uh- it starts like ‘I am not a poet’.

**MARTIN:**

( _an audible smirk in his voice_ ) Oh?

**JON:**

Yes haha Martin. It just- okay?

**MARTIN:**

_(mock innocence and being a little shit because he’s been waiting to pick that ‘Keats’ bone with Jon for years):_ I’m not saying anything.

**JON:**

( _slight pleading and an apology in his tone_ ): Martin.

**MARTIN:**

Sorry. Please continue.

[JON MAKES A FOND HUFF]

**JON:**

I am not a poet... I am not a poet but when I saw you...beloved, I knew how to rhyme.

**MARTIN:**

( _overwhelmed with love for a second_ ) **:** Oh.

**JON:**

It’s the chorus. There’s a lot about faith and love. Very standard Indian themes to be fair.

**MARTIN:**

Oh that sounds lovely actually. Do you remember some more?

**JON:**

I had heard of what love is. I had heard of the word ‘love’.

[SOUNDS OF A TABLE BEING BUMPED AS JON GOES DOWN ON HIS KNEES IN FRONT OF MARTIN WHO IS SITTING ON THE SOFA]

**MARTIN:**

Jon what are you- your knees they’ll hurt- Oh Jon.

**JON:**

Pyaar kya hain ye mujhko nahi thi khabar…But what love is supposed to be, I never knew. 

**MARTIN:**

( _audibly tearing up_ ): Jon I-

**JON:**

Main toh uljha raha- I remained tangled, like riddles and problems. I lived among friends- like I was an enemy.

[SOUNDS OF QUIET SOBBING AS JON BREAKS DOWN AT THE LAST LINE]

**MARTIN**

(distressed) Jon. No. Don’t cry please. It’s fine, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked-

[JON TALKS OVER HIM , AUDIBLY SOBBING BUT TRYING TO SUPPRESS THEM]

**JON:**

No, no Martin. It was nice- it was nice singing to you. I was thinking of you when I was singing this song before, I don’t mind telling you what it meant. It’s just- I don’t know why I’m crying. No scratch that, I know why I am- I just didn’t want to put the onus on you to comfort me again-

**MARTIN:**

(gentle like trying to comfort a scared deer): Jon I don’t mind comforting you, you know that. I just don’t like to see you- [ AUDIBLE INHALE] falling back into old habits. Grieving again.

[ JON HUFFS OUT A SLIGHTLY BITTER SOUND]

**JON:**

This is less grieving and more wallowing in the mistakes I’ve made, Martin but I take your point.

**MARTIN:**

_(On much firm footing now. They’ve had this argument before)_ : From what you’ve told me Jon, it didn’t sound like it was your fault. Not fully atleast.

**JON:**

_(slightly hysterical tone entering his voice as previous guilt comes rushing back)_ : Michael and the presence of- not!Sasha may have...some influence over the paranoia that consumed me Martin, but I was already- spiralling then, it just became too easy to place blame on others. On you and Tim who had been attacked like me but didn’t have the same support- oh God.

[SOUNDS OF THE TABLE BEING MOVED AGAIN. RUSTLING ON SOFA AS MARTIN SETTLES A CURLED UP JON IN HIS ARMS]

**MARTIN:**

( _firmly_ ): Jon. Stop. Stop. It’s gone. The moment is gone. Tim's- We can’t dwell on the past anymore. We all made our choices and so did Tim. He chose to die trying to avenge his brother and we have no way of knowing if- if anything we would have done or said differently would have made the slightest bit of difference to his decisions, at the end. Don’t- don’t diminish his choices Jon. He was our friend and a good man and so are you.

**JON:**

Well not a man anym- Okay Martin, no need to give me that _droll_ expression. I’ll stop...wallowing.

**MARTIN:**

_(small smile_ ) Good.

**JON:**

_(unwilling to leave Martin’s very cuddly hug)_ : Help me?

**MARTIN:**

( _with all the tenderness in his heart_ ) Of course. Bed?

**JON:**

Can we- can we stay on the sofa for a bit? I want to- I want to tell you how the song ends.

**MARTIN:**

_(much more cautiously):_ Okay. As long as it- as long it doesn’t make either of us think about things that we can’t-

**JON:**

( _audibly shaking his head no_ ) : It won’t. But this bit- I listened to this song on repeat when I came out of the coma. I didn’t know how to- how to put my feelings for you into words on my own so I- looked things up. Shelley, Wordsworth, Byron and even Keats. But then I found the video for this song and it- fit. I am not a poet Martin. Or...a moon-struck lover...or even a believer. But when I see you, I know what it means- love and faith. There’s a word in Urdu, ibaadat. It means prayer, devotion and I do that to you. I do it for you- and us.

[SILENCE BECAUSE MARTIN BLACKWOOD, ‘AMATEUR POET BUT MY LANGUAGE OF LOVE IS ACTS OF SERVICE’, HAS EXPIRED OF ACHING LOVE AND IS STRUGGLING TO PUT A RECENT TRAUMA INTO PROPER WORDS]

**MARTIN:**

You know when I had to isolate myself from you and everyone else- to let the Lonely sink its claws in me; I put away all the poetry and things. Books about the Romantics and Browning and Dickinson, I gave them all away to a charity shop nearby. But there was one I never could quite get rid of. And when- I had to remind myself of why I was doing this, why I said no to us blinding ourselves and getting out of the Institute, I found it waiting for me in the second drawer.

**JON:**

( _voice muffled because he’s saying it into Martin’s chest)_ : What was it?

[MARTIN INHALES]

**MARTIN:**

Love demands everything and is quite right, so it is for me with you, for you with me. Only you forget so easily... that I must live for you- and for me. Brighten up- remain my true and only treasure, my all, as I to you. The rest the gods must send, what must be for us and shall.

[SILENCE AS JON REGISTERS THE WORDS AND RECOGNISES ITS ORIGIN.]

**JON:**

_( a small smile in his voice)_ Immortal Beloved. Fitting in a strange kind of way for our...situation.

**MARTIN:**

_(teasing voice because this is what their banter is usually like):_ Are you really immortal? I mean- avatars can die right? Michael did- or atleast was replaced. And as far as we know so did Nikola and Agnes.

**JON:**

I mean yes. But then Dracula was called immortal, and he could be staked or burned by sunlight into ash.

**MARTIN:**

( _snorts_ ) So you’re Dracula now then?

**JON:**

I mean- it does fit in a way. Just not a vampire of...blood.

**MARTIN:**

( _roasting his boyfriend mode_ ): And less panache and drama.

**JON:**

_(mock offended):_ Hey!

**MARTIN:**

Jon I love you, but if you want to call yourself a quote-unquote vampire, maybe you should have worn a cape and had slightly more *drama* in your clothing.

**JON:**

( _primly_ ): I’m a vampire in disguise Martin. I don’t want to be obvious about it like Dracula and those other amateurs.

**MARTIN:**

So does that make me your Mina?

**JON:**

( _heh’s_ ): Jonathan Harker more like. Mina was never a focal point of Dracula’s direct... interest in the book. Harker was.

[MARTIN LAUGHS OUT LOUD]

**MARTIN:**

Somehow I’m not surprised you would be pedantic about Dracula, Jon. But more to my point…

**JON:**

_(teasing now):_ You had one? Apart from teasing me?

**MARTIN:**

_(a delighted smile in his voice as he realises Jon is teasing him back and is marginally more cheerful):_ Haha. I did actually. I was thinking- do you believe that that’s what our lives always have been? In a previous life, a previous generation, a different world? I know that Hinduism and like other religions have reincarnation as a concept and central...theme? Do you think we would have...escaped the entities’ notice long enough...to meet? To be together?”

**JON:**

_(a little more seriously but with the same amount of fondness and a small wistful smile_ ) : That’d be nice wouldn’t it? I mean before… the Change, there were people who lived entire existences without suffering directly under the Entities. Some fear yes, but not all the time, every day. Maybe in another world, we could have carved out a life together, been happy- not easily of course, I don’t think in any world, either of are easy in the most emotional sense but-

**MARTIN:**

( _interrupting before Jon can go into a ramble_ ): I know. I get what you mean. But do you think we could have gotten that? A different life? One where maybe we would still have been touched by the Entities and somehow managed a life of our own for as long as we got?

**JON:**

( _wistful)_ : I mean Gertrude and Adelard and multiple people in the statements managed to survive and live past their brushes with the Entities and their avatars to something of an old age so it could have been possible.

[SILENCE AS JON SUBSIDES. MARTIN HUMS QUIETLY AS THEY TAKE A MOMENT TO CONSIDER A LIFE THEY’LL PROBABLY NEVER HAVE] 

[MARTIN GIVES A SOFT LAUGH]

**MARTIN:**

Maybe we would have been those men from that letter to Jonah.

**JON:**

I’m sorry what?

**MARTIN:**

There was a letter Peter wanted to find for ages. It frustrated him a lot that Eli- Jonah had hidden that away so deeply within the archives it was practically impossible. He said it was from the only people who came close to frustrating Jonah Magnus and his plans for the Institute? When I asked what they did- all he said was kicked him out of a club which made no sense-

**JON:**

The Remnant.

**MARTIN:**

What?

**JON:**

_(the knowledge is pouring into his head so he’s speaking faster and spookier)_ **:** The Remnant. It was a magical practitioner’s club for practitioners in London in the late 1800’s. It was the go-to for knowledge and magical assistance and all the famous sorcerers of the era were members including-oh God. They were- they were real?

**MARTIN:**

Who?

**JON:**

( _spooky deeper voice)_ : Robert Caldwell and Simon Feximal.

[THE TAPE SOUNDS GET HIGHER AND LOUDER]

[ SOUNDS OF MORE RUSTLING ON THE SOFA AS MARTIN PUTS JON ON THE SOFA TO LOOK DIRECTLY IN HIS EYES]

**MARTIN:**

Jon, you’re not saying the author of the biggest Victorian pulp adventure series to ever exist was real and so was-

**JON:**

Yes. And I think-

[ TAPE SOUNDS GET HIGHER AND A SOFT THUMP IS HEARD AS SOMETHING LANDS ON THE GLASS TABLE]

**MARTIN:**

Jon. Jon was that letter on the table before?

**JON:**

( _gravely_ ): No. No it wasn’t. 

[CLICK]

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos, comment, and share. I live off your validation like a praise Archivist.
> 
> Come scream at me in the comments or talk to me on @redqueensparta ( the one with the angry lesbian flag) on Twitter or on Tumblr jon-sims-is-a-problem-child where I mostly scream and shitpost about TMA and TPP now.


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